


The White Rose's White Christmas

by historiareiss



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8897362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historiareiss/pseuds/historiareiss
Summary: A not-so-brief overview of what a Christmas dinner between the Plantagenets and the Woodvilles would look like.





	

The air is thick with the scent of baked pies and peppermint, the table hasn't been laid yet and the living room is barely outfitted to welcome guests. To Elizabeth Woodville's chagrin, only the Christmas tree seemed to be in its rightful place.  
The woman pouted in worry, as her eyes frantically wandered around the room to find what _exactly_ was out of place.

The wondering must have so greatly twisted her beautiful face, that her mother felt the urge to interrupt her obscure musings.  
"The table is not going to set itself up, dear. Shouldn't we get started?" Jacquetta Woodville's voice was as poised and reassuring as ever, even in distress. But she was right.  
The large table in the middle of the room was still clear, save for the little place cards on each seat. Edward's place was at the head of the table, as it befitted the head of the family; Elizabeth herself, his wife, was going to sit on his right hand side, whereas on Edward's left were Jacquetta and Richard Woodville, ever beloved parents to Elizabeth and Edward's in-laws. Then, followed Elizabeth's endless streak of siblings, with some brief interruption to allow Edward's only two brothers and their respective consorts to sit in their blond midst as well.

There was no doubt that the Plantagenets were clearly outnumbered by the Woodvilles, though. For said reason, Jacquetta had explictly ruled that Woodvilles and Plantagenets should sit elbow-to-elbow, rather than each on a different side of the table, facing each other in open contrast, lest it could pit the ones against the others in the unfortunate eventuality of a quarrel. With George Plantagenet - Edward's seething greedy brother - and Edward's mother sitting at that very table, Jacquetta's measures were far from needless. It all seemed perfectly planned, Elizabeth knew that her mother would leave nothing to chance and yet...

Her lips parted, finally coming to a grim sort of realization. "Why do I have to sit by Cecily Neville's side? Do you want her to poison my wine at the first chance she gets?"  
Jacquetta let out a helpless chuckle. Her daughter's distaste for her mother-in-law was far too dramatic not to laugh at. "I doubt she would poison her daughter-in-law on Christmas day.  
That would send her soul straight to hell and you know how she despises the heat."  
Elizabeth scowled at her mother, in disappointment. The fact that she was objectively right, only made her all the more outraged. "But if she does, then your soul will join hers, because you would have given her the perfect chance to murder me with this ill match of your own making." She conceded, defying her mother with a glare.

Jacquetta's lips remained curved upward in that motherly and confident grin of hers despite her oldest daughter's displeasure. "It's past time that you learn to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer, and also to put your differences with the Duchess of York aside, for the sake of the family and your husband's sanity." It was all she said, before they would finally proceed to set up the table together. Elizabeth then went back to the kitchen where two of her seven sisters, Anne and Mary, were ensuring that nothing was amiss with the gravy's consistency or the turkey's taste or the trifle's flavor.  
And indeed, they were as flawless as the rest. Somehow this only irked Elizabeth, because it made her uneasiness all the more unreasonable.

"You may go upstairs, I'll take it from here." She assured her younger sisters, who were beaming at the prospect of finally wearing their most elegant dresses for the special occasion.  
"Make sure that the children dress their best, and when you're all ready come downstairs to greet the guests. They should be here any moment now." Elizabeth declared staunchly, her hands occupied with the stuffing of the turkey already.  
"When will you dress, then?" Mary inquired, puzzled at the sight of her older sister still in a kitchen apron despite the late hour.  
"I will be ready in a heartbeat, unlike the rest of you." Elizabeth playfully japed, before her sisters hurried upstairs without a moment's delay.

The clock was about to strike eight and now Elizabeth was beginning to regret telling her sisters to leave the cooking entirely to her. There would be no time to get dressed, and how could she welcome her husband's family in a kitchen apron and a colorless robe of wool?  
They already believed her an up-start and a social climber... All they were looking for was an actual chance to see her in a less than absolutely impeccable state, and she would never be free from such label.

"Beth? What are you doing still here?" She nearly faltered at her brother Anthony's unexpected remark, so caught up in her own restlessness and haste. She was almost done baking the savory pies, she couldn't just leave now. And besides it was more than mere surprise that caused her wavering at Anthony's presence. He had probably been in her husband's company all day, since they shared a camaraderie born of the same vices. Even on Christmas, their merry-making kept them both away from home for the best part of the day. For once, though, Elizabeth was glad of this much, as late and overburdened as she was.  
"Where is Edward? And the rest of his family? Have you seen them?"

"He went to pick up your beloved mother-in-law, the Duchess of York. George and Isabel are on their way. And I suppose Richard and his wife as well." Anthony informed her, not half as concerned about their arrival as his sister was.  
"This is a disgrace." Elizabeth's grey eyes rolled in her eye sockets, as her hands fell along her ankles. "Dinner will never be ready on time. I don't know where half of our siblings are and I-"  
"And you look like a fishmonger's wife." Anthony raised his left eyebrow in blatant mockery and disbelief at his sister's utter disarray.  
Elizabeth cracked a smirk for her brother's sarcasm, that always managed to lighten up her spirits, even in the direst situation. "Are you here to help or just to taunt me?"  
"Help? If I helped you with cooking, I'm afraid our guests would sue us for food poisoning, dear sister."  
"Then go find Mother and tell her to come at once, I need all the help I can get before Edward and his arrive here!" The woman pleaded breathlessly, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.  
"I shall do more. I will send our mother to you and then go to meet your husband before he even gets here and delay him as best as I can. What do you think?"  
"I think that I would owe you my life." Elizabeth squinted her eyes in astonishment before cupping her brother's face in her hands. Anthony Woodville placed a quick kiss on her flour-stained cheek before turning on his heels and going to fetch help for his sister.

A few minutes later, Jacquetta Woodville appeared on the kitchen's threshold like a holy miracle, already dressed and perfumed for dinner, not a single hair out of place.  
Elizabeth welcomed her with a sigh of relief and eyes brimming with joy, as if she were a little girl again and only her mother's warm embrace could comfort her. "Mother-"  
"Oh, not a word! I can't believe your sisters left all the dirty work to you, the lady of the house. Go, go. The Plantagenets are upon us!"  
Jacquetta grabbed the apron from her daughter's hands and with a delicate bump, she pushed her out of the kitchen.

Elizabeth rushed upstairs, in the bedroom she'd been sharing with her husband and love for a year now, threw some of her best dresses on the bed and finally chose one to wear.  
She decided to wear white for the night, like the snow falling from the sky in December and - not of less importance - the white rose of the Plantagenets, her husband's coat-of-arms.  
She needed to show them that she was one of theirs now. They might not like it, but she was.

As she was slipping into the high-waisted white dress, the bedroom's door opened without so much as a knock, and at once she knew it had to be Edward, since he was the only one who felt no need to knock whenever his wife was undressing. And there he was, after nearly twenty-four hours, he finally showed up again. Elizabeth knew that she ought to be mad at him for being away from home on a holy day, but how could she ever be mad at someone with a smile so endearing and eyes that were so hungry at the sight of her half-naked body?

"I will be ready in a minute. I trust that you can entertain your mother and brothers in the meantime?" The woman observed, without turning to face him, but only looking amusedly at his reflection in the long mirror in front of her.  
"Your brother mentioned a fishmonger's wife..." Edward stepped quietly into the room, closing the door behind his back. He then placed his hands on his wife's hips and softly kissed the space between her shoulder blades, skin left bare where the dress' fabric didn't reach.

"And what do you think?" Elizabeth Woodville sighed and only half-heartedly tried to pull away from her husband's firm grip on her hips.  
She could feel his groin stir against the small of her back, where their bodies were touching, his manhood yearning for her even through several layers of clothing. " _I think the fishmonger a lucky bastard, of course_."


End file.
